Snowbound Cinderella by Ruth Langan

Ellen, has excellent taste. If it comes in a can, a box or a package, she has it somewhere in this cabin. I thought the potatoes added a nice touch. Don’t you agree?” He set the platter between their plates, then reached for the bottle and topped off her glass and his own.
    He lifted the glass, sipped, then said, “One more thing I noticed about you.”
    Ciara tensed.
    “You have a brain under all that lovely hair. But you don’t let too many people get inside it. Probably for the same reason you hide your heart.”
    “So I won’t be taken advantage of?” Her tone was sarcastic, to hide the nerves that had surfaced.
    He nodded. “You need to have the upper hand. It’s your armor. You like it when others expect someone quite different from the person you really are.”
    “You mean the hard-edged, dumb blonde bimbo?”
    He heard the bitterness in her tone. “I didn’t say that. But you do want to hide behind a mask.”
    “Why should I?”
    “So you’ll always be one step ahead of everyone else.”
    She pressed her lips together. “Thank you for that in-depth analysis, doctor.”
    “It’s just a thumbnail sketch. So far. The in-depth analysis comes later.” With a chuckle he put his hand under her elbow. This time he was ready for the electricity that always came when he touched her. But even though he’d tried to prepare himself, it left him shaken.
    He guided her to the sofa. “Come on. It’s time I softened you up with my specialty— Steak Lockhart.”
    When she was seated he speared a steak and placed it on her plate, then spooned the sizzling vegetables around it. “First the presentation.” He glanced over. “Does it meet with your approval, Hollywood?”
    “It does.” She breathed in the aroma and felt her mouth water.
    “Now for the true test.” Jace waited while Ciara cut a small piece of meat and tasted it. “Well?”
    She grabbed her napkin and covered her mouth, pretending to gag.
    Jace caught her arm. “What’s wrong?”
    “It’s—” she struggled to hold back the laughter, and pressed her napkin over her face so he couldn’t see her eyes “—just the worst steak I’ve ever—”
    Eyes narrowed, he yanked her hands down. She couldn’t contain herself any longer.
    “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She was giggling so hard that she could hardly speak. “Oh, Jace. You ought to see your face.”
    “You scared the hell out of me. I thought I’d poisoned you.”
    She wiped at her eyes. “You were so…smug.” She choked back another chuckle that bubbled up from deep inside.
    He was trying not to laugh, she could see. But the warmth of it was there in his eyes, and tugging at the corners of his lips. “Very funny, Hollywood.” He sat back. “Okay. But you’d better be very careful from now on. We’re stuck with each other until the roads are cleared. Until then, I could be cooking you a lot more meals. And you never know just what I’ll put in them.”
    “I guess I’ll have to see that you taste everything before I do.” She picked up her knife and cut another bite of meat. With a sigh she said, “Actually, this may be the best steak I’ve ever eaten.” She glanced over. “But try not to let it go to your head.”
    He was grinning broadly by the time he cut into his own steak. One more thing he’d learned about Ciara Wilde, which he’d tuck away with the other facts: she definitely had an offbeat sense of humor.
    “Now it’s my turn to dissect you.” She cut another bite, chewed, then said, “You’re very secretive. The last thing you want to talk about is yourself.”
    “Maybe it’s because I’m such a dull guy.”
    She gave him a knowing look. “Oh, yeah. Most of us would be bored to tears if all we could do was have missiles aimed at us while we stay one step ahead of an army of terrorists.”
    He was forced to laugh at her depiction of his life. “That isn’t all I do.”
    “I should hope not. But the fact is, you’re like all reporters.